


The Amazing Amnesiacs of New York go on a Beer Run

by nonky



Series: The Amazing Amnesiacs of New York [5]
Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: Gen, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 12:34:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9657713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonky/pseuds/nonky
Summary: If Roman had chosen fruit flavoured wine coolers, Jane's obvious pride in her brother would oblige them all to happily drink pre-mixed strawberry kiwi breezers. At least the choice had been narrowed safely to beer.





	

Jane smiled as the door opened, her body only mostly relaxed. This first trip out to socialize was important for Roman. She kept a scorecard in her head of all the times he was able to make small talk and respond to people more naturally. It was important his experiences let him grow personally as well as find a place on missions. 

She knew him as a funny, warm and interesting person, but she didn't have a lot of examples in her own memories. She just knew it about him, and saw glimpses of it when he managed to shed some of the anxiety of being locked up. Kurt had made a lot of arrangements to have them over, and it was purely for Roman's benefit.

Restaurants and bars were out of the question. It was too exposed and Roman wasn't ready to be around lots of strangers. Kurt had gone home to shower, change and cook for them. Jane had offered to bring take out and he'd given her a look that told her he disapproved of all the bags of breakfast sandwiches and burgers he'd seen being 'smuggled' to Roman.

They'd stopped at the liquor store and bought beer, Jane insisting her brother inspect the different choices and use his own judgment. She wanted him to start trusting himself, and beer was a minor dilemma. It had taken a while, but he'd found a Seattle microbrew label that he thought was familiar. Jane had grabbed a six pack of Weller's Pennsylvanian beer as well, and their joint security detail had dropped them off at his apartment. 

Weller opened the door with a grin and an abrupt invitation. The smell of a tangy sauce and cooked chicken simmered in the air, even as a timer went off in the kitchen. 

"Hey, come in, I have to get that." Kurt disappeared into his kitchen and the timer stopped after a few moments of oven door slamming and pots banging around. 

Behind her, Roman made an indistinct sound. "I feel like we're a lot of trouble coming over," he said. 

Jane stepped inside, too stubborn to let this be derailed by a little awkwardness. She'd been deeply uncomfortable in Kurt's home the first time, and only a little better the second. It was a process and it needed practice before visiting felt natural. She didn't think Shepherd had welcomed a lot of people into their home growing up. 

"We're not, he just had to catch the food before it burns. He's a bit of a perfectionist about cooking. It wouldn't matter if it was just himself, he'd be grumpy all night if he dried out the chicken," she said, turning back to wait for Roman to step inside. "The first time I came to dinner here I literally got up from the table and ran away I felt so out of place. We have to get you used to people just like I had to when I lost my memories."

Roman's mouth was tight, but he stepped over the threshold. "It does smell good," he said.

"It will be. There's no pressure. While we're eating, no one is going to be talking much. After, we'll turn on the television and you can talk as little or as much as you want," she promised. 

Weller returned just as she had Roman officially inside and the door shut behind him. Jane looked proudly between the two men, smiling eagerly. 

"We're both here," she said. "Do you need help in the kitchen?"

He gave her a dubious look. "I'm . . . good. Thank you. Hi, Roman, welcome."

Weller's offered handshake was confident, but Roman countered it by extending the case of beer. They all paused as her brother realized he'd been meant to shake hands first, but by then Weller had the beer in both hands and was leading them to the living room. 

"Thank you, you didn't need to bring anything. So the grand tour. Living room, kitchen through there, couple of bedrooms and a bathroom, and New York, so rent that costs half the Earth. But I do have a little bit of a view."

"It's, uh, nice," Roman lied stiffly. He wasn't being rude, Jane knew, but he probably hadn't had any opinions on interior design with his memories. Without them he was just saying what people said when they went over to a house. 

"I've been thinking about a new sofa but I'm not sure it's a good investment," Kurt said. "I'm going to lay these in the fridge. Jane, you want me to take those as well?"

She gave him his brand of beer and waved toward the balcony. "The view is pretty. You can't really see major tourist spots or anything, but it's a great skyline."

Roman went to look out, hands in his pockets. He also probably didn't have any opinions of scenery, but he was obviously trying. Jane left him for a moment and followed Weller to the kitchen. 

"Dinner smells good," she said. "Thank you for doing this."

"Someone has to start feeding both of you. I don't know what gave Roman muscle mass, and you eat like a bird," Weller said. He took the lid off a tray of potatoes and the scent of warm olive oil and seasonings wafted up. "I'm confused about the beer. Pennsylvania beer under my roof, if only because Rich Dotcom hates it."

Jane smiled. "I wanted Roman to pick, and that's what he chose. I'm trying not to steer everything about his day. Too much help and I'm just making him into a version of me."

If Roman had chosen fruit flavoured wine coolers, Jane's obvious pride in her brother would oblige them all to happily drink pre-mixed strawberry kiwi breezers. At least the choice had been narrowed safely to beer. 

Kurt nodded. "It's my fault for letting you two do the beer run," he teased. "You know what they say about amnesiacs at the liquor store?"

"N-no?"

He cracked open one of Roman's brand, and took a sip of beer with a playful twist of his mouth. "Yeah, neither do they."

She groaned, stealing his beer and walking off the terrible joke. Weller chuckled at himself and took two more out. He walked over to Roman and offered him one. 

"I know Dr. Sun is all about caution with your medications, but I think one beer shouldn't hurt anything," he said. "I'm glad you're here. It makes Jane really happy."

Roman took the drink and opened it carefully, holding it away from all the furniture. He nodded, and said, "Thank you for inviting me. Does she spend a lot of time here?"

Weller thought about it. Jane was about the only person who showed up at his place to hang out, but that was only a few nights a week. He wasn't sure if Roman was casually asking - the man's tone was still very hard to figure out - or fishing for a confirmation to gossip he'd heard. 

"She's here for a couple of hours every few evenings. Not the whole night or anything," he said honestly. "You've maybe overheard some gossip about more than that at the office. It's not true. Hazard of working with nosy FBI agents."

Roman was agreeable, looking around as if he was catching details Weller knew couldn't exist. Jane wasn't there often and she always went home after a single beer. They were discussing work half the visit anyway. 

"I just saw her sweater over the chair, and she wasn't wearing a sweater when we came in," he said mildly. "And she seems to know where stuff is in the kitchen. I didn't mean anything by it."

Weller paused, glancing at Jane's easy navigation of his drawers and cupboards. She had set out three glasses, silverware and cloth napkins. She was reaching for plates with her back turned. She really was giving a very good impression of being at home with guests to impress. 

"Yeah, good eye. She must have left the sweater last time. I'll make sure she goes home with it tonight."

He excused himself to the kitchen and Jane looked up at him with a frown. "Are you okay?"

"I just sometimes realize I'm not great at small talk," Kurt said. "Then I look at Roman and it feels like it might become an extended staring contest I definitely will not win. If my brain really hates me, I'll start to speculate how much of the gossip about us Roman has picked up on at work, and then we're both awkward."

She shook her head with a sigh. "You're fine with small talk, and Roman likes you. I'm going to get him to help set the table," Jane said. "Don't be weird and it won't be weird. Drink your beer and smile. It's not bad, right?"

"It's pretty good beer. I'm not sure I'll remember it tomorrow . . . "

She cringed at his second tacky amnesia joke. "I think you're really misjudging your audience with your humour."

His next sip of beer was long and drawn out, before he leaned on the counter and looked at her squarely. "Eh, I'm not worried. It's not like you'll be able to find my place again without help."

"Wow - You're terrible," she laughed. "You're not funny."

Weller squinted into his beer, shrugging carelessly. "Tell you what, you drink your beer, come back in a few minutes and I'll tell it again," he said, smirking. 

Jane shuddered. "Hey, Roman, we're going to set the table for Kurt. Dinner's going to be a minute, since he's momentarily lost all good taste. I hope it comes back before we sit down to eat," she said. 

The younger man came and took the plates carefully. He looked between them as if something puzzled him that was hard to articulate. Kurt could practically see conclusions being drawn and held up his beer.

"These were a good choice, man," he said. "Thanks."

Roman nodded, holding himself very still as if it took that much care to hold three inexpensive plates steady. All of Kurt's dishes had survived Sawyer for a year, and would soon have to survive his daughter's visits. 

"Beginner's luck," Roman said. "Glad you like it."


End file.
